


Family Found

by Jenksel



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: AU, Casskins, Family Drama, Gen, Team as Family, married Cassandra/Jenkins l Galahad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-04 03:52:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14584368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenksel/pseuds/Jenksel
Summary: Jenkins experiences every pet-parent's worst nightmare.





	1. The Careless Caretaker

Franklin quietly followed Xǐ Què and Xiàng Rì Kuí—known to the rest of the world as Flynn Carsen and Eve Baird, respectively—as they slowly walked down the long tunnel that led from the workroom to the front door of the Annex.  The tall woman, whom Franklin had named ‘Sunflower’ for her height and yellow hair, had her arm around the waist of the man Franklin called ‘Magpie’ because of his chattiness, and he had his arm around hers.  When they at last reached the door and opened it, a burst of cool air, bearing all sorts of new smells and sounds, reached the small reptile, and his attention immediately shifted to the whole new world he spied outside the open steel door.

The Librarian slipped his arms again around the Guardian’s waist, from behind this time, as they stood on the walkway just outside the door.  The night sky was gently giving way to a pale, yellow-tinged horizon as the sun began its climb into a new day.  The air was chilly and still, their only company being the birds beginning their morning by rushing about in search of food for their nests full of hungry offspring.  Eve leaned against Flynn, the warmth of his body comforting against her back.

“Looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day,” she commented quietly.  “Perfect and cloud-free.”  Flynn couldn’t resist nuzzling her neck.

“ _Every_ day is perfect with you in it!” he murmured into her ear, and Eve smiled at the endearment.  She turned around in his arms and placed her lips on his.  She kissed him slowly, and Flynn returned it eagerly, tightening his arms around the most perfect woman he had ever known.  Eventually they broke apart, reluctantly, and just as he was about to suggest moving things to someplace more private, he felt something brush against his lower leg and heard a soft squeak.  The startled man yelped and jumped back from Eve; she, startled in turn, jumped back from him.

“Flynn!  What the…?” she started to ask, when a movement caught the corner of her eye.  She turned her head just in time to see Franklin, Jenkins’s pet tea dragon (though he stubbornly refused to use that word) sprinting across the open grassy area outside of the Annex.

“Franklin!  NO!” she yelled, and started off after the small creature.  He was far too fast for her, though, and he soon disappeared from view in the dim dawn light after she had covered only a few yards.  Flynn caught up to her, his mouth hanging open.  She turned to look at him, dismay in her blue eyes.

“Jesus, Flynn—Librarian or Guardian or not, Jenkins is going to _KILL_ us!”  Eve stared in horrified disbelief at the open ground in front of the Annex.  She turned and began marching quickly back to the open door, Carsen in her wake.

“Why?  It’s not our fault he got out, we didn’t do it on purpose!  It was an accident!” he protested, waving his arms. 

“We should’ve been more careful, Flynn!  We shouldn’t have left the door standing open!” Eve remonstrated.

“What, we can’t even kiss in an open doorway of our own Library while we watch the sun rise anymore?”  As soon as they were inside he pulled the door shut behind them, hard, then stalked into the tunnel that led to the workroom, Eve now hurrying after him.

“God, Flynn, he is just going to _freak_!  He loves that dragon like it was his own child!  How are we going to explain this to Jenkins?” she asked worriedly.

“Explain _what_ to Jenkins?” the Caretaker asked blandly as the bickering pair burst into the workroom.  The Guardian and the Librarian stopped in their tracks and stared at the tall man.

“Uh...Jenkins!  Hi!  Good morning!  We weren’t expecting to see you up so early!  How _are_ you?  Did you sleep well last night?  Any interesting dreams you’d care to share with us?” babbled Flynn, clearly uncomfortable now.  Eve elbowed him in the ribs.

“ _Tell him_!” she stage-whispered.  Jenkins merely stood silently, regarding them with a resigned look on his face; whatever it was they had to tell him was sure to be irritating at the very least; it always was.  Flynn straightened up and adjusted his jacket nervously.

“Yes, well, uh...it seems there’s been a little...accident.  With Franklin,” he said, forcing as much calm bravado into his voice as he could muster.  Resignation was quickly replaced by alarm on the immortal’s features.

“An accident!?” he repeated apprehensively.  “Has he been injured?  Is he ill?  Where is he?”  Jenkins stepped toward Carsen, and the younger man automatically backed away from the much larger, _much_ stronger Caretaker.

“No! No!  No!  Not injured!  At least, I don’t _think_ he is,” Flynn said.  “At least, not the last time I saw him...”  Sensing that something very unpleasant was being kept from him, Jenkins’s eyes became hard as he furrowed his brow.

“Will someone _please_ tell me what is going on with Franklin?” he demanded, his patience quickly thinning.  “ _Where is he!_?”  Eve and Flynn exchanged glances, the Guardian making a gesture indicating that Flynn needed to tell the truth, now.

“We, um… _accidentally_ —it’s very important that you understand that part, Jenkins—we _accidentally_ left the front door open and…Franklin got out of the Annex and ran off into the park somewhere and we couldn’t catch him!” Flynn blurted.  It took a few seconds for his words to register with the older man, and when they did his normally placid face darkened with a mixture of anger and fear.

“ _Got out of the Annex?!”_ he bellowed, eyes widening.  “You mean, out _into the_ _city of Portland_!?”

“Well…uh…  It’s your own fault, Jenkins!” Carsen barked defensively.  “You shouldn’t let Franklin run loose in the Annex anyway!  How could you be so irresponsible?  Pretty careless for someone who calls himself a caretaker, am I right?  ‘Taking care’ is sort of in the job description, right?”  Eve turned and stared wide-eyed at the Librarian.

“Don’t blame this on him, Flynn!” she countered.  “ _We_ shouldn’t have left the door open!  We both knew that Franklin was loose, we should’ve been more careful!  There’s no one to blame here but us!”  She turned to face the dumbfounded Jenkins.   

“He doesn’t mean that, Jenkins!  He’s just upset.  It was just an accident, I swear!” Eve said quickly, stepping between the two men.  “Don’t worry, Flynn and I will find him for you and bring him back!”

“And _how_ will you do that, exactly, Colonel, if I may be so bold as to ask?” Jenkins asked, becoming more distraught by the second.  “An animal that size could be _anywhere_!  He can _go_ anywhere, _fit_ anywhere!”  Eve thought she could hear tears beginning to tinge the old knight’s voice as distress gave way to anguish, his thoughts racing to a slew of worst-case scenarios. 

“He’s only a small tea dragon, Colonel—he’s virtually defenseless in a modern city like Portland!  What if someone captures him?  What if he becomes caught in a trap of some kind?  What if he eats something poisonous?  He could be hit by a _car_!  Merciful Iesu—what if a _dog_ should get hold of him!?”  Jenkins’s face paled at the idea.  “I have to go look for him, Colonel!  I have to find him before something terrible happens to him!”  He started for the hallway, but Baird laid a hand on his arm to stop him.

“Don’t worry, Jenkins, _we’ll_ find him,” she said calmly, giving his arm a light squeeze as she tried to reassure him.  “You stay here in case he finds his own way back.  We’ll get the others and scour the park.  He hasn’t been gone very long, he can’t have gone far.  I’ve hunted down IEDs that were smaller and better hidden than him, Jenkins.  We’ll find him, I _promise_ you.  We’ll find him!”  She turned back to Flynn.

“Go get the others, Flynn,” she ordered, but he didn’t move.  Instead, he stood staring at her skeptically.

“Eve, do you have any idea how long it’ll take to search a park this size for a creature who is _designed by Nature_ to blend into vegetation?” he said.  “And we can’t exactly put up posters or anything like that, either.  The odds of finding a tea dragon the size of Franklin in an area the size of Cathedral Park are hundreds of thousands—maybe even _millions_ —to one!”  The Librarian paced excitedly as his mind automatically began figuring the odds under varying conditions, much to his Caretaker’s horror.

“And the odds _against_ finding him totally explode into the _trillions_ to one if he gets out of the park and into the city itself—We skip right over the ‘billions’ phase!”  Before he knew what had happened, Eve had him by the lapels, her face directly in front of his, a steely look on her lovely face.  She spoke slowly, clearly enunciating her words.

“Go. Get. The others.  Flynn.  NOW!”  She let go of his coat and he stumbled backward a few steps.

“Of course, being _Librarians_ , we eat the _impossible_ for breakfast!  Every day, in fact!  Twice before Friday!” he prattled nonsensically, realizing his mistake.  “In fact, we eat it _thrice_ before Fridays, because we’re just _that_ _hungry_ for the impossible!  Starved for it, in fact...!”  Eve glared at the babbling man, her eyes boring into his.  Carsen began backing away from her slowly.  “I’ll...just...go and get the others, why don’t I, aaaand then we’ll go scour the park!”  Carsen turned and rushed from the workroom to gather the other Librarians while Eve tried to soothe and reassure a now highly-agitated Jenkins.


	2. Little Franklin's Big Adventure

Franklin raced over the dewy ground, wildly enjoying the tickling sensation of the grass as it passed over his sensitive belly.  He’d never been outside of the Annex since his arrival there several months ago from the tea fields of Yunnan.  As exciting as the Library was to explore, Franklin found himself positively ecstatic with excitement at being outside in the open air again.

There were so many unfamiliar sights, sounds, odors!  The little dragon hardly knew where to begin this brand new adventure.  He spent the first few hours chasing birds and butterflies or playing with squirrels, which was a great deal of fun for Franklin, if not the birds, butterflies and squirrels.  He climbed trees and explored rabbit burrows.  He even discovered the joys of trashcan diving, finding all kinds of exotic new things to sniff and taste.  He enjoyed a snack of discarded cotton candy (which he loved), a handful of stale popcorn (which wasn’t nearly as tasty as how Bái Shān made popcorn), and a bite or two of an old hot dog (which he disliked very much).  He tasted new kinds of bugs, dug up fat, juicy earthworms and grubs and sniffed _everything_ he came across.

He recognized dogs and cats, and remembered what his parents in China had taught him about them, that those animals were dangerous and harmful to tea dragons and should always be avoided.  As vulnerable as his kind were to dogs and cats, however, the little dragon was nearly killed by a creature that he had never seen before while chasing a particularly impertinent squirrel.  Franklin ran out onto a pathway made of some kind of hard smooth stone.  He suddenly heard a loud roar and felt the ground shake beneath his feet.  He froze in the middle of the path and looked wildly around, his heart pounding in fear.

To his horror he saw a monster bearing down on him, an utterly terrifying thing, large and dull silver, that growled and rumbled like the huge sky dragons of his homeland that brought the rains and good fortune.  But rather than being long and graceful and sinewy like those magnificent creatures, this new animal was like a gigantic turtle—hard, squat and compact, with huge square staring eyes, two large silver tusks that pointed straight up on its flat face, and belching a noxious black smoke from its backside.  It looked a great deal like the pictures of demons he had seen painted on the walls of the village temple back in China.

Terrified beyond the ability to think, Franklin instinctively curled up into a ball in the middle of the path and hid his eyes, whimpering prayers to the Goddess of Mercy and mightily wishing now he hadn’t left the safety of Bái Shān’s house.  He expected any second now to feel the monster’s giant tusks pierce his hide as it snatched him up to devour him.

But he was surprised—no tusks ripped him to pieces, no long, sharp claws tore into his tiny body.  The beast merely passed over the huddled Franklin without touching him.  It must not have even _seen_ him—he was indeed a very lucky little dragon!

Suddenly the beast stopped with a screech.  It must have caught Franklin’s scent after all!  Coughing and sneezing from the thick smoke that came from its tail, Franklin squealed a prayer of thanks to the Goddess as he quickly jumped to his feet and raced away before the monster could turn and attack him.

The driver of the old pickup truck threw open his door and jumped out of the cab.  He jogged excitedly back to the spot where he’d seen the snake—a huge, green thing, like a python or a boa constrictor or something—all balled up in the middle of the road.  But the roadway and the surrounding area was bare, not a sign of any animals anywhere, snakes or otherwise.  The young man scratched the back of his head in puzzlement as he headed back to his truck.  He would’ve _sworn_ he saw a snake...

* * *

Franklin also remembered the lessons his parents taught him regarding humans, and any time he saw or heard one, he quickly ran to the closest cover and hid himself or climbed into the upper reaches of a nearby tree.  He wasn’t sure why, but instinct told him that even though Bái Shān and Chá Huā and the other members of his new family were good and kind, not all humans were like them.  With his protective coloring, small size and serpentine build, he was easily able to escape notice so long as he stayed very still and very quiet.

By late afternoon he found himself on the bank of a large river, and he spent a couple more hours splashing in the shallow water as he chased tiny minnows and crawdads, his harrowing brush with the monster-demon now forgotten.  It wasn’t until the sun ducked behind the tree line and the light began to rapidly dim that Franklin realized he far from home.  Too far, in fact.  And he didn’t have a clue as to which direction he should head in order to find it again.

As crickets and tree frogs began to sing, he stood up on his hind legs to try and get a better view of his surroundings, but nothing looked familiar.  He’d been too focused on the things he was chasing to pay attention to landmarks.  He next tried climbing up a tree for a better view, and, to his immense relief, he saw the familiar sight of Bái Shān’s house in the distance, _much_ closer than he thought it would be.  He quickly shimmed down the tree and took off in the direction of home.

When he reached the structure he ran straight up to the weathered metal door.  It was shut tight, and he began to scratch at it so Bái Shān or Chá Huā or one of the others could let him inside.  But no one came.  He thought perhaps they couldn’t hear him, so he scratched at the metal even harder and more frantically, but still no one came.  As fear settled over him, Franklin forgot caution and began to cry piteously for Bái Shān, his tiny claws scrabbling furiously against the hard surface.  After several minutes, the little dragon’s loud cries turned into a wail of despair and panic.  Where was Bái Shān?  Why didn’t he come to the door and let Franklin in?

The frantic tea dragon struggled to make sense of the situation.  Perhaps it was forbidden to go outside, and now Bái Shān was punishing him?   Perhaps Bái Shān _couldn’t_ let him in again—perhaps the patriarch’s house was a _magic_ house, impossible to reenter again once someone left it?  Perhaps that’s why Bái Shān never left it himself?  And now here was Franklin, shut out!  He would never see Bái Shān or Chá Huā or the members of his family ever again, all because of his own foolishness!  He was indeed a very unlucky little dragon.

Whining softly to himself in misery and remorse and not knowing what else to do, Franklin did the only thing he could think of.  The hungry, exhausted dragon curled his long, sinewy body into a tight ball up against the door as closely as he could get, hiding his head beneath his coiled body.  He again prayed to the Goddess of Mercy for her help in finding his way back to Bái Shān, and then cried himself to sleep.

* * *

 

After gathering the other Librarians and dividing the park grounds up between them for their search, Flynn spent the entire day looking for Franklin.  Too ashamed of himself for trying to pin the blame for this mess on Jenkins earlier, the Librarian didn’t even stop for lunch or dinner, and refused to go back to the Annex without the little dragon.

 _Poor old Jenkins_ , Flynn thought as walked the park grounds.  He’d given up everything for the Library, he was so dedicated to its service and the service of the Librarians, and most of the time he had received nothing from them in return over the centuries except benign neglect at best or, at worst, outright abuse.  Carsen sighed as he remembered how rudely Darrington Dare had spoken to Jenkins when he dropped rather unexpectedly into the 21st Century.  Dare had treated Jenkins—had treated _Sir_ _Galahad_ , for Christ’s sake!—dreadfully, as little more than the hired help.  True, Dare was a product of the 19th Century, but as much as he idolized Darrington Dare and as eager as he was to make excuses for his behavior, Carsen had been secretly appalled, even a little embarrassed, by how shabbily the Librarian had treated the Caretaker.

And now this mishap with Franklin and Flynn’s selfish reaction to it.  Jenkins had had enough heartache in his long life already, the last thing he needed was for Carsen to blame _him_ for the loss of his cherished pet.  _How could I have done something as self-absorbed and stupid as that?_   he kept asking himself.  _How could I have done something so childish and hurtful_?  Especially considering how much Flynn actually loved the old immortal.  Not in the same way as he loved Judson, of course— _that_ was a very different, special relationship—but he loved Jenkins very much, despite the older man’s initial prickliness.  He’d softened considerably over the last four years, though, the high walls he’d built around himself were steadily coming down now, brick by brick, especially after he became involved with Cassandra.  And now Franklin.  Flynn was amazed at how quickly the cantankerous old Caretaker had bonded with the tea dragon; they were almost inseparable now, and the Librarian was convinced that the only thing Jenkins loved more than Franklin was Cassandra.

The day faded and turned dark, and still there was no sign of Franklin anywhere.  As Flynn hung up his phone after getting a disheartening update from Eve, he slipped his hand into his pocket and wrapped his fingers around the bundle in it.  It was an artifact from the Library that he had hoped would help him in his search for Franklin if all else failed; it looked now as if the time had come to use it.  It was an artifact of terrifying power, and the last Librarian who used it—Romanus the Foolhardy, back in the 4th Century—had died a brutal, _very_ messy death.  But it was the only chance he had now of finding Franklin.  Flynn had to make this right with Jenkins.  He owed it to Jenkins, for what happened this morning and for everything the immortal had done for him and the others in the past four years.

Carsen resolutely tightened his fingers around the bundle and pulled it from his pocket.


	3. A Found Family

Several bridge foundations away from where a lost tea dragon would eventually curl up for the night, Jenkins spent the day fervently hoping that Franklin would return to the Annex on his own or be found safe and sound by one of the others, even going so far as to muttering a quick prayer or two for that intention.  Jenkins had never had anything resembling a pet before Franklin.  He’d owned horses, of course, and the occasional hunting hound, but they were considered working animals, a necessity in the times in which he lived rather than a luxury.  He loved all animals and a had a true gift for befriending them and winning their trust, but the creatures he took care of for the Library were only his charges, none belonged just to him. 

But Franklin was different.  Franklin may have arrived by misadventure to the Library, but he had chosen to stay with Jenkins, and for the first time in his long life the Caretaker experienced the unconditional love and affection of a pet.  Or, as Cassandra called Franklin, a ‘scale-baby’; it amused her no end that a knight kept a dragon as a pet.  Jenkins refused to use the word ‘pet’, however; he found the word demeaning, wholly incapable of truly expressing the love he felt for Franklin.  He had quickly grown very attached to the friendly little reptile, and it was amazing to the taciturn immortal how fast Franklin’s affectionate displays and antics could lift his spirits, even on his worst days.

The thought that Franklin might be lost for good—or worse—was just too painful to even think about _._ The only other one who elicited such deeply felt emotion in Jenkins was Cassandra.  _I’ll never forgive myself if something has happened to him..._ Jenkins thought as he shook his head angrily at himself. 

And now he was gone, maybe for good.  And perhaps Mr. Carsen was right, perhaps this whole mess really _was_ Jenkins’s fault.  Perhaps he _shouldn’t_ have let Franklin have the run of the Annex and the Library, perhaps he _should’ve_ put him in an enclosure, like all the other animals.  But he was such a happy, spirited little creature, so curious and full of life—Jenkins just hadn’t had the heart to shut him up into one room of the Library, even a room as seemingly endless in space and as pleasant as were the rooms the Library contained.  No matter how large or natural-looking, it was still a pen, a cage.  Franklin didn’t belong in a cage.  Franklin was different from the other animals here; he wasn’t just a specimen or an exhibit.  Franklin was… _family_.  Mr. Carsen might laugh at him for such thinking, but Jenkins couldn’t lock Franklin in a cage any more than he could lock Cassandra in one!

In an attempt to distract himself from the nightmare scenarios involving utterly defenseless dragons in urban settings that came unbidden to his imagination, Jenkins spent hours assiduously tidying and cleaning the workroom until it sparkled and not a single paper clip was out of place.  He drank gallons of tea.  Fearing that perhaps Franklin might have returned on his own and was waiting for someone to let him into the Annex, Jenkins paced repeatedly between the front door and the workroom until his feet ached.  He racked his brain trying to come up with ideas of where a tea dragon might like to go in a modern city in order to direct the Librarians in their search.  He even called the various area animal shelters and rescues to inquire—in the most nonchalant way possible—if any of them had recently acquired any lost ‘lizards’ fitting Franklin’s description, to no avail.

Sixteen hours later, three young Librarians and the Guardian began to drift one by one back into the Annex, each of them exhausted, defeated and empty-handed.  Each offered profound apologies to the disappointed Caretaker as they trudged into the workroom and dropped into chairs, removing shoes and rubbing tired, aching feet, ankles and calves. 

Cassandra went straight to Jenkins when she returned, tears in her eyes, and gave him a tight hug as she tried to comfort him.  The old knight was putting up a brave front, plastering a bland, unconcerned expression on his face to hide his true feelings from the others, but he couldn’t hide them from his wife.  She knew him too well for that; she knew how much he loved the little dragon, and she knew he was crushed by their failure to find Franklin. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” she murmured just loud enough for him to hear.  “As soon as I change into warmer clothes, I’m going to go back out and look for him again.”  Jenkins leaned back from her and laid a large hand on her cheek.

“Nonsense, my dear,” he said, resolution in his voice.  “You can’t go out into the park alone at this time of night, it’s far too dangerous.  Plus, you’re exhausted.”  He kissed her furrowed brow.

“I know you did your best, Cassandra, and I appreciate it.  But you stay here, now; go to bed and get some rest.  I’ll go out and look for him.  Perhaps he’s simply been hiding somewhere all day out of fright, perhaps if he sees me or hears my voice, he’ll come out of hiding, provided he’s not injured or...”  He couldn’t finish the sentence, and the look in his eyes broke Cassandra’s heart.  She threw her arms around him again and held him tightly.

At that moment, the back door activated, and all eyes turned to the unexpectedly glowing portal.  The doors swung open and Flynn Carsen stumbled into the workroom. 

“Hey!  Why all the long faces, everybody?” he called out loudly as he regained his balance.  “You all look like you’ve just lost your best friend or something!”  As the others stared in stunned disbelief at the Librarian’s callousness, Cassandra, her jaw set and fire in her eyes, started toward the thoughtless man, her small hand balling into a fist.  As soon as he saw her coming, Carsen quickly reached into his adventure bag and pulled out a wriggling, squeaking Franklin, holding the dragon up like a trophy. 

The moment Cassandra saw Franklin, she immediately broke into squeals of joy, and instead of punching Flynn in the throat as she had originally planned, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.  The other Librarians and Eve Baird scrambled to their stiff, sore feet and rushed over to the Librarian, all of them excited to see the tea dragon again.  Everyone began chattering at once, congratulating Flynn, asking where he had found Franklin, demanding to know how he did it.  Jenkins drifted over slowly and stood quietly apart, just outside the knot of happy Librarians.

Carsen extricated himself from the group and moved to where Jenkins was waiting, the fingers of one hand lightly covering his mouth and hiding his trembling lower lip, his soulful brown eyes blinking rapidly against tears.  As soon as Franklin spotted the old knight, he began to squirm frantically against Flynn’s grip and screaming loudly in excitement, sounding almost like a human child. 

The Librarian held Franklin out to Jenkins with a little flourish.  As the Caretaker reached for the dragon, Franklin launched himself into Jenkins’s arms, splaying himself against the man’s broad chest.  Wriggling madly with joy, his long tail lashing to and fro, he began licking the large man’s neck and face with his long, forked tongue, happy little grunts and whimpering sounds coming from his throat at the same time.  Jenkins laughed with relief and joy as he cuddled the tea dragon against his breast, heedless of the damage the little beast’s claws were doing to his expensive shirt and tailored suit coat. 

“Franklin...” he croaked, closing his eyes and nuzzling his cheek lovingly against the excited creature’s long neck.  Everyone but Cassandra looked studiously looked away when tears finally slipped from Jenkins’s eyes.

“Thank you, Mr. Carsen,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion as he hastily brushed the errant tears away.  He gave Flynn a small bow.  “I am in your debt.”  The Librarian waved away his words.

“Ohhh…pipsy-posh, Jenkins!” the younger man said grandly.  “It was my fault he got out in the first place; it was the least I could do.”

“May I ask where, exactly, you found him, sir?” Jenkins queried, adjusting his hold on the fidgeting dragon.  Flynn shrugged his shoulders.

“He found me, actually,” he said evasively.  “I just sort of...called him, and he came right to me...”  Jenkins gave him a quizzical look.

“You _called_ him?”  Jenkins repeated doubtfully.  “How on earth did you manage that, sir?  Dragons simply don’t come when they’re call—“  Understanding dawned on the Caretaker’s face, quickly followed by horrified incredulity.

“Oh, _sir_ ,” he said, aghast.  “You _didn’t_...!”  Flynn’s silence and refusal to look him in the eyes confirmed Jenkins’s fears. 

“Are you _insane_ , Mr. Carsen?” he cried.  “I do appreciate your desire to find Franklin, don’t misunderstand me—but to use the Dragon’s Voice...!?”  The others looked back and forth between the two men, completely confused.

“The Dragon’s Voice?” asked Cassandra timidly.  Jenkins looked at her, then the others.  Realizing that they had no idea what he was talking about, he began to explain.

“The Dragon’s Voice is a call—a type of bullroarer, actually, but it acts as a duck call or an elk call used by hunters.  It’s made from a piece of a skull of an Elder Dragon, a primordial dragon—an ancestor of _all_ dragons, considered to be almost a god among dragonkind.  When used it produces the sound of an Elder’s gathering call, and any dragon that hears the Voice cannot resist it.”  He looked hard at Flynn Carsen.  “And it’s one of the Library’s most _dangerous_ artifacts because of that.”

“Why’s that?” asked Jacob.  Jenkins glanced at the historian and took a deep breath.

“Because dragons _intensely_ dislike being deceived, especially by weak humans,” he answered gravely.  “One can use the Voice to force a dragon to come, but once summoned, there’s a better than ninety-nine percent chance that the beast, in its rage at not actually finding an Elder, will immediately tear the caller to pieces!”  He looked soberly at Carsen, who only shrugged his shoulders again.

“Whaaat?  It was a calculated gamble!” he said blithely as he waved a dismissive hand.  “Since there are no other dragons in Portland, _logically_ Franklin _had_ to be the only dragon within earshot.  And don’t forget that he _is_ a species of _Eastern_ dragon, so there was a very good chance that he would react much differently to being summoned than a Western dragon would.  And he’s only a very small dragon, Jenkins—lost, scared, hungry.  I figured that he was just as eager to be found as we were to find him, ergo, there was very little danger of him tearing me to pieces in the end.  Besides,” he added quietly, almost shyly.  “I thought you were worth the risk, Jenkins.”  The older man blinked, taken aback by the Librarian’s words.

“I beg your pardon, sir?” he asked, not sure he had heard correctly.  Flynn approached the immortal and reached out to pet Franklin, who finally settling down in Jenkins’s arms.

“I thought you were worth the risk,” he repeated, more firmly this time.  “You’ve given so much to us, Jenkins, to the Library—I can’t begin to count how many times you’ve pulled our chestnuts out of the fire over the last few years; hell, if it hadn’t been for you, I would’ve _died_ that very first day we arrived here!  You took care of Eve and the others while I was gone those first couple of years, kept them safe, guided them, taught them everything they needed to know about the Library and about themselves and how to be the best Librarians they can be.  You’ve taught me a few things, too, along the way.  And you’ve never asked for a thing in return.”  The others gathered behind Flynn as he spoke, some nodding and murmuring in agreement with his words. 

“I was only doing my duty, Mr. Carsen,” Jenkins replied uncomfortably, trying to deflect the younger man’s praise.  “I’m merely a servant of the Library, and of its Librarians.  I certainly don’t warrant the taking of risks such as—“  Flynn cut him off.

“ _No_ , Jenkins.  You _do_ warrant the risk, _any_ risk!  You’re _not_ just a servant, not to us,” he said.  “Cassandra’s not the only one who loves you, you know.”  He turned and swept his arms around at the little group clustered behind him.  “We _all_ love you.  We’re a family, and _you’re_ a member of this family, Jenkins, just as much as anyone else here.  You’re not a servant, you’re not beneath us; you’re an equal.  We— _I_ —owe _you_ far more than I can ever hope to repay.  And I’m very sorry for what happened this morning, Jenkins, for the things I said—it _wasn’t_ your fault, not at all.”  Carsen shrugged his shoulders again and looked up into the Caretaker’s eyes. 

“Doing whatever it took to find Franklin for you—it was the very least I could do for a friend.” 

Jenkins looked briefly around the group of faces in front of him, all echoing Flynn’s words, then looked down quickly lest the new tears stinging his eyes slipped out.  He swallowed hard against the large knot in his throat, then stood straight and squared his shoulders while taking a deep breath.

“Yes, well,” he said, his voice low and cracking, unable to keep a traitorous tear from sliding down his cheek.  “Thank you, sir.  I am… _honored_ that you consider me a friend.  And a member of this...family.”  A wide grin broke out on the Librarian’s face.

“Hug?!” Flynn said brightly, spreading his arms in front of the startled Caretaker.  A panicked look flashed across the immortal’s face, but then he caught sight of Cassandra smiling like the sun and nodding her head in encouragement, her clear blue eyes full of happy tears. 

Jenkins returned his attention back to Flynn and the others.  He turned and gently set Franklin on a desk, then turned back to the group of expectant faces.  He paused for a moment, unsure of how to go about doing what he wanted to do next.  Taking a deep breath and keeping his gaze fixed on the floor, he shyly, awkwardly spread his long arms apart, inviting them in. 

Flynn, grinning, rushed forward to wrap his arms around the large man and gave him a bear hug, thumping his back fraternally.  Soon the rest of the little family was clustering around the tall man, everyone tightly hugging him and each other at the same time as best they could.  Jenkins wrapped his arms around everyone and hugged them back, tears now streaming silently over his cheeks, his heart suddenly full to overflowing with joy.  Franklin, unhappy at being separated from Jenkins, leaped from the desktop and onto the Caretaker’s shoulder, knocking several books and the pencil cup off of the desk in the process.  He wrapped himself around the immortal’s neck and rested his head sleepily on the man’s shoulder, trilling his happiness at being safe at home again with his adopted family, especially Bái Shān.

There were more sniffles and tears, not all of them coming from just the women.  It was the first time Jenkins could remember ever being included in one of these ‘group hugs’ as they called them, and it felt good to him— _very_ good, indeed.  For the first time in a _very_ long time, perhaps the first time ever in his immortal life, Jenkins didn’t feel like he was the misfit on the outside looking in longingly; he was actually a part of them, _truly_ a part of this wonderful, found family. 

He belonged.  He always had, he finally realized, and he knew now that he always would.

**Author's Note:**

> This began as a short ficlet for "Life with Franklin' but quickly grew too large for a collection of shorties, so I turned it into a stand-alone. Hope you enjoyed it, and as always, thank you for reading!


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